


In Just a Moment's Time

by kingozma



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Charging JO Crystals Etc, Explicit Sexual Content, Foreplay, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Religious Guilt, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 02:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11326344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingozma/pseuds/kingozma
Summary: you know what i love? consensual sexual interactions. Let's get this done.





	In Just a Moment's Time

**Author's Note:**

> mininepthys is truly an inspiration

Dogma’s grip on the handle of his broom whitened as he heard a guest push their way through the door of the cathedral. It had gotten so unbearable, his legs were quivering as he stood, warm and heavy.

Who that guest was, was anyone’s guess. He was just finishing up his morning chores. He didn’t ask for this.

It started out as wiping the Goddess’ stony visage of any dust that might have accumulated overnight and dusting the pews, but he added sweeping to his list of errands. He felt as if he owed that to his Creators, for bringing thoughts so… Lowly, so filthy, so mortal into Their house.

His shameful back faced the pews. It was better that way. It felt less like he was… Being watched? That wasn’t the right term, but it was close. Something like one of those dreams in which you, for some reason, show up to a very important place stark-naked. And you always, always, have an audience.

But there was the matter of being face to face with the Goddess herself, wasn’t there? Her eyes cold, lips relaxed and unfeeling… Surely She understood, didn’t She? She had to have known, Dogma was only human. Striving for holiness did not - necessarily - yield holiness 100% of the time, did it? She had to have known that. So he was sure, She was not judging him. She knew humans came to feel this way every so often.

He racked his brain that morning for a verse from the scripture that justified this self-loathing, found none, and then for a verse that forgave him his weakness of the flesh, and found none. Were there truly none, or did he forget? That real-or-imagined silence was heavy, positively oppressive all the same.

Though of course, contacting his own reason, if humans never wanted that sort of - base, unclean closeness, how would the human race She and the good Lord so lovingly watched over continue to thrive? How would anyone be born?

Yes. That’s surely it. There was a godly use for these irritating feelings. That’s how Dogma justified it without kneeling right then and there and praying for His and Her understanding.

He at first thought ‘Their mercy,’ but come now, it was hardly that dramatic.

In the few seconds Dogma had before the guest greeted him, making their identity known, it occurred to him that there are four people he least wanted to see at that moment.

1.) Worst of all, Cody. His own sister. The shock of that would probably be enough to bring him out of this awful state, permanently. For the rest of his life. Forever. No offspring for you, Dogma! That meant their family line was that much closer to extinction.

2.) Second-worst was a pair, Russell or Gardenia. Children did not need to see him right now. Children did not need to watch him pretend everything was alright, while only he knew what secrets he was keeping from these innocents. Children did not need to be exposed to such a mockery of what a house of God should stand for.

3.) Mayor Saxon. Dogma shuddered as he turned to face his guest. Those judging eyes.

His guest was none of the above, which he had no time to feel grateful for. That was because he was met with an advancing pair of deep red bedroom eyes, and very quickly the canvas they were painted on climbed his mental list far enough to dethrone Mayor Saxon.

It was Kantera. The medicine man. With the horns. And the. The hair. The hair, that looked like he just rolled out of bed, and maybe he did, that did that very pleasant thing where it seemed to just - frame Kantera’s face flawlessly with just a quick comb-through.

“Good morning,” the medicine man said with a yawn into the back of his hand. Dogma knew Kantera would never have subjected himself to anything more time-and-energy-consuming than running a comb through his hair a couple times and brushing his teeth as far as grooming went. Not showering. That was for evenings. It had to have been, because this morning, he looked so dry and soft and warm and lovely to touch and Dogma was going to stop thinking and start functioning as a proper man of God normally would now.

“Ah… It’s you,” Dogma said, trying his absolute hardest to sound like himself, but in that moment he wasn’t so sure what ‘himself’ sounded like. “… Good morning. Do you require something of me?”

That’s what functioning sounded like. Dogma was doing just fine.

Kantera just laughed that husky, satin-soft laugh of his and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t require anything, I merely wanted to wish you a good morn. Now that I am here, though, I suppose I should inquire about something… Have you taken any rest days for yourself in the past month? After all, you have been working very hard lately and it shows! That flushed color in your skin isn’t healthy. It is readily apparent, you’ve worked yourself into a fever and that’s no good.”

Dogma’s blood went cold, and he would have laughed, but he had to stay in-character.

“I think I’m quite fine, thank you,” he said tersely, not turning away just yet. That would have been too eager. “If you’ve really got nothing you need, I would prefer it if you left me to my chores. I’m nearly finished anyhow, it isn’t as if I’m cleaning this place day and night.” Dogma quite conveniently found a rectangle-shaped spot of dust under his desk that he missed, and attended to it as best he could without physically moving said desk. Maybe the Goddess was aiding him in his time of need, giving him props to use in this little skit of his so Kantera would just– leave him alone, give him some peace and quiet, let him leave and relieve himself of this awful throbbing feeling someplace he wouldn’t be troubling someone.

“Hm… I had a feeling you would say that.” The medicine man scratched his chin. “Well, I’m very sorry to do this, but you’ve left me very little in terms of alternative options. I implore you, won’t you accompany me back to my shop? It won’t take long. Just a few minutes, long enough for me to prescribe you the medication you need, advise a day or two of rest, this and that - so you can get back on your feet as soon as possible.”

“No,” said Dogma right away, and Kantera laughed again, sending a shiver down the allegedly-holy man’s spine.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, hold your horses. You haven’t even taken the time to think about it, have you? Really, there are quite a lot of benefits to this request of mine. You would prefer to operate at full energy to serve God, wouldn’t you? He and the Goddess appreciate your hard work, but… Don’t you think taking these steps to ensure your work is meaningful and efficient would honor Them more than working yourself into exhaustion. At that point, you wouldn’t be able to do anything for Them. And wouldn’t that be awful…” The medicine man’s smile widened and, in a surreal way, simultaneously softened. Those heavy lids lowered.

Dogma realized he had two options. Stay here and argue with Kantera all day, or agree to tag along with him. He did say it would only take a few minutes…

And he knew Kantera to be a stubborn little man - he would not give up on something like this. Dogma supposed it was kindness, truly. Selflessness. It was Kantera’s life’s calling to make people well, after all…

“… A few minutes. That’s what you said, and I’m holding you to it,” sighed Dogma. “Let’s go.”

Kantera cracked his neck as he closed - but didn’t lock - the sliding door after Dogma, strolling casually towards what Dogma assumed was the back wall of the medicine shop. Almost like he was testing that ‘few minutes’ clause, the cheeky bastard.

That wasn’t a very God-fearing thing to think, so Dogma decided to tolerate it without a comment, but not without a look.

“Ah…” The medicine man sighed, stretching his arms out behind him, “We’re finally alone. That’s wonderful, because what I truly wanted to say would have been terribly awkward in the face of your Goddess.”

“Eh?! What’s this… Have you lied to me?” Dogma asked, furrowing his brows. He could feel his own teeth baring. But he was met by a gentle hand-wave from Kantera.

“I have not deceived you, I have only… Mm, what’s the right word? I have… Protected you from further embarrassment. Yes, that’s it.”

Kantera seemed awfully pleased with himself.

“What does that mean?” growled the holy man, eyes narrowing. His patience was beginning to run out, his lust and need turning to everyday annoyance.

“Dogma, you can’t think so lowly of me as a doctor that you actually believe you were fooling me, can you?” Seeming to revel in the petrified look on Dogma’s face, he added “No… Not just as a doctor. As your friend. Here I thought we were best friends, but perhaps I’ve gone and overvalued my place in your life…”

Dogma knew Kantera was teasing with what he said last, but he took the bait without thinking anyway, gripping the edges of the countertop behind him. “No! That has nothing to do with it,” he nearly shouted. “I– I don’t think poorly of you in the least. You are my friend, that much is true– I don’t understand what you mean, I have done nothing to you.” But he did understand.

And Kantera just kept on smiling. His head tilted to one side, exposing more of his pale, warm, soft– his neck, no adjectives necessary, Dogma, on one side. A completely useless detail to notice, so Dogma pretended he didn’t.

“If this line of conversation is making you uncomfortable… By all means, you are free to leave now. I can’t make you hear me out, and I simply won’t make you take my real advice. But please, if you have any respect for me as a professional… Admit it. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Kantera was so calm, and Dogma found that perfectly unbearable. Terrifying.

But he didn’t leave, though he knew he could. Though just a few minutes prior, he would have given anything to be turned free and left alone for a while. Maybe it slipped his mind. Maybe he looked away, casually crossing one leg over the other as he stood for a reason. Kantera went on, crossing the floor over to the preacher at a leisurely pace: “You see… I know exactly what’s really troubling you.”

“Do you, now?” Dogma asked, voice wavering though he tried to sound tall. Unshakable and skeptical, which was the exact opposite of what he was.

Kantera met his attempt to fake confidence with true confidence so quickly, Dogma had to wonder if Kantera wasn’t bluffing to make fun of him as he originally thought. With a gaze Dogma couldn’t look straight into, he said, “Preacher Man, you look like you’ve run a mile. You, with your shaking legs and flushed skin, who I’ve prescribed home remedies for asthma to since I moved here, look like you’ve done the impossible for your circumstances.”

Both Dogma and Kantera knew Dogma would never risk an asthma attack like that, so Dogma had nothing to say.

“I also happen to understand… The mentality of holy men like you. Believing in principles of self-deprivation, bloodless sacrifices of sorts to offer to your God. Oaths to avoid for the rest of your life vices such as pipes, alcohol, gambling, and…”

Dogma’s nails dug into the counter behind him. Noticing this, Kantera stopped in his tracks, nearly wobbling on his feet and added “Haha… Oh, look at me rambling. Admittedly, I didn’t plan this talk out as well as I should have…”

“Oh, no. By all means. Continue.” The preacher’s voice was bitingly cold and too bitter to swallow, so the sweet doctor paid it little mind.

“Well, all this is to say… I should certainly hope… You don’t think it’s a sin to…” Kantera’s hand twirled slightly on its wrist, a gesture he wasn’t entirely aware of making as he searched for the most delicate words. “Want… Certain… Things.”

Certainly delicate, but ineffective, judging by the unamused way Dogma raised a brow. The doctor sighed, rolling his eyes more at himself than at Dogma, and made his way across the last couple strides of the floor to the countertop Dogma leaned against, not stopping until his hands were right beside Dogma’s on the edge of the counter, his nose nearly nudging against Dogma’s.

“I apologize for my bluntness, but this, I must say as your worried friend. Not as your doctor. You’re a human being with a sex drive, that’s something many of us possess. And it’s a perfectly normal thing that you’re dealing with in a way that’s abnormal. That’s where the pain is coming from, I should say, not from the feelings themselves… You are hurting yourself, and if you let me, I…”

Kantera must have seen that frigid, deer-in-headlights look on the preacher’s face, because he, wide-eyed, lifted one sleeve to his lips and laughed. Shrill, nervous and shaky as he stepped back, muttering an apology and giving Dogma his space.

“I know that,” said Dogma, recovering from such a shock by clutching the rosary around his neck, Dogma, who absolutely didn’t know that, “I know it’s all natural and normal and perfectly well, that doesn’t make it simple. Regrettably… It would be strange for a preacher to think in such liberal terms about these things.”

A sympathetic pout crossed Kantera’s face. “Why, Father… I know the faith isn’t teaching you to feel such shame, so where are you getting it from exactly?”

“I-it isn’t shame!” cried Dogma all too quickly, “It’s… Decency. Shouldn’t a preacher set a proper example? For discipline, temperance, for…” He sighed. “What kind of holy man would I be if even the slightest temptation gets the best of me? Temptation is to be mastered, not bent to.”

And then Kantera drew close again, and this time, Dogma looked just slightly less like he was about to have a heart attack. When Kantera’s hands stroked up his cheeks, he also became just slightly more aware of something throbbing inside him, and he winced at himself… But didn’t exactly resist this new tenderness.

“This is just the way it looks to me, but… Don’t you agree this whole dilemma is getting in the way of your work, and not helping it? And besides… If it’s troubling you this much, can your method of putting it in its place truly be called mastery?”, asked the doctor. When faced with logic that sound, paired with those eyes, those gentle hands now combing through his hair, Dogma had no witty retort. “Since I am this town’s doctor… No, this is a purely personal concern. Since we are such close friends, I simply thought I should let you know your hands aren’t completely tied… You have options that won’t feel like torture, and won’t prolong your misery.” Did he just lick his lips? “Dogma, you know I’m here for you. Don’t you? You know I would do anything for such a dear friend.”

Dogma sensed where this was going and was filled with a deep dread. How dreadful that this was such an enticing offer, but even more dreadful that Kantera seemed to feel it was his responsibility to give himself away like this! and placed his hands on Kantera’s chest. What he meant to do was push the doctor away, but his hands… Lingered a bit longer than he wanted them to. He gently nudged Kantera a step back. “I would be a terrible preacher and an even worse friend if I took advantage of you in such a way. Your body is a temple, it is sacred and it is yours, not a jar of medicine to hand out to anyone who seems to be suffering. H-has someone here treated you in this way?”

His worry only froze him more and more as he watched Kantera go silent, wrangling with that question, his lips hidden behind his sleeve.

“I do appreciate your concern… But, you see, I can’t help but think you’ve let your imagination run away from you,” Kantera chuckled lowly. “No one in Nameless Town has hurt me. If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t have offered, you know… Yes, in fact, I just find this sort of thing fun.”

Kantera thinks sex is fun. Dogma deflated on the inside, at this point in the conversation feeling a sort of envy.

“… I’m sorry,” said Dogma, his face crumpling up a bit as he pulled his coat around himself tighter. He cracked one hazy, sidelong eye open, wincing at the sultry man standing before him, nearly breathless as he said “I– would very much… Very much like your idea. But I can’t.”

Tilting his head, Kantera said, “I will respect you and your choice no matter what it may be. But if I may ask… Why not? If you want to, and I want to, what’s stopping you? … Oh, I do hope this doesn’t sound like a debate. I’ve just never heard of such a situation… It isn’t still that shame, is it?”

Dogma shook his head, looking away with only his eyes. “No, I… Well, yes, but I can bear that if I have been wrong in my approach regarding temptation all this time. But the truth is, it feels so much like selfishness on my end. To take from you this way, without giving anything in return. Please, let me do something for you.”

The preacher came close to regretting his words when he saw the grin that dawned on Kantera’s face. “Oh, but of course… I am simply helpless to help you you unless you pay me one… Small little favor.”

Dogma sighed and played along, but there was a weary, defeated - but satisfied - smile on his face that gave the doctor a giddy little shiver up his spine. “And what kind of favor would that be?”

Kantera chuckled and ran one hand through his own hair. His voice was low, heavy, and pleasantly gravelly in his reply.

“Tell me how much you want it. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

And then Dogma regretted his words.

“You, ah… You want me to do what?”

“Pleeeaaase, Dogma?” Kantera implored, hugging around his dear friend’s waist and resting his cheek against that darling man’s chest. “That’s all I want. You don’t have to lift a finger to please me, hearing you be honest with me would be enough. And of course, when I say I want you to be honest, I mean I want you to shamelessly beg. Ohoho.”

The preacher’s eyes flicked across the room, not daring to look Kantera in the eye. “I…” He began, throat dry, and cleared his throat before going on, “I– I…”

He stole a glance at Kantera’s face, and found it looked much like it expected something marvelous to happen, like a child waiting for the fireworks at the end of the Seaside Festival. Dogma sighed. Who was he to disappoint his generous, selfless friend?

So he did what he could. Gritting his teeth, in disbelieving anticipation of what he was about to do, he hugged Kantera’s head to the crook of his neck and murmured in the doctor’s ear, “Please. Please give it to me.”

Dogma considered the virtues of the mortal sin of suicide for a good second until every inch of Kantera’s body shudder against him. He even heard a breathless little giggle from the shorter man

And then he felt teeth on his neck, not biting, but rather making their presence known.

“Good boy,” Kantera murmured into the nape of Dogma’s neck, kissing it slowly and softly. Dogma tried to breathe steadily as the doctor went on, “That’s quite brave of you for our first time, I wasn’t expecting that.”

F-first time? Dogma supposed that wasn’t a disagreeable notion… The preacher’s legs tensed as Kantera touched his knees to gently part them open, his arms tightening around the doctor’s neck - which Kantera responded to with a kind whisper. “If something feels wrong, say so. But I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The sensation of Kantera’s tongue and lips sucking and kissing just under Dogma’s ear coaxed a strained, closed-mouth whimper out of the preacher. Kantera noticed that, much to Dogma’s simultaneous dread and pleasure. “Oh… You like that?” He laughed, soft and low right in Dogma’s ear. “I’ll certainly remember that… It would be terribly cruel of me to toy with you for much longer, wouldn’t it? So maybe I ought to get right to it…”

Dogma wasn’t completely cognizant of what that could have meant until he felt Kantera’s hand snaking up his robe. That made his legs swing shut right away, and he couldn’t help but grab onto the closest thing for comfort.

That happened to be Kantera’s hair, and he felt the doctor jolt just a bit in his arms. “Ah–” Dogma breathlessly stammered, immediately untangling his fingers from Kantera’s hair and stroking it, “I’m– I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. It won’t happen.”

The look on Kantera’s face was a bit dazed, but… He laughed anyway, a little short of breath himself. A positively indecent smile spread on his reddening, wide-eyed face as he reassured the preacher, “Oh… No, that’s perfectly fine. You can pull my hair if you want to. My… I didn’t expect roughness like that from you, but I suppose I am not complaining.”

There was… A whole world Dogma’s eyes had been closed to up until now. But he just nodded, closing his eyes and disobeying the ashamed, mortified voices in his head as he allowed his quivering legs to open again.

“P… Please. Please continue,” he begged, running his fingers up through Kantera’s hair. “Have mercy on me, don’t make me wait any longer.”

Kantera lifted his head to smile at his - his - preacher, eyelids heavy, and press a soft kiss to that man’s lips.

“I will be good to you,” he murmured against Dogma’s lips, kissing him again to soothe him. He worked his hands under Dogma’s robes, unbuttoning his trousers, and whispered, “Quick and painless seems to be what you need most, mm?”

“Haa–h-mmnh,” was the noise Dogma made when Kantera pulled him out of his pants and chuckled breathlessly, enjoying the feeling of his preacher’s warm, hard flesh in his hand a little too much. And Dogma tried to remember his dignity in the overwhelming feeling of the doctor’s soft, deft hand stroking - firm but not painful - up the length of his cock.

His dignity was a little hard to find at the moment, he found, as the next thing he knew, he was holding onto Kantera’s hair again and panting into it. Kantera, on the other hand, having no dignity whatsoever that Dogma could detect, just smirked up at his darling friend and massaged his thumb and forefinger around the head of Dogma’s length, earning a lovely, high-pitched whimper out of him.

“That’s a good boy,” Kantera breathed into the preacher’s ear, rewarding his courage thus far with a soft kiss just under the earlobe. “Tell me, are you enjoying yourself?”

All Dogma could do was whine into his - his! - doctor’s hair, shutting his eyes as tight as he was gripping Kantera’s hair. But that didn’t satisfy Kantera. He went on, “Mm… I don’t know, I can’t be sure how you feel if you can’t tell me in words. Are you sure you like this?”

He closed his fingers around Dogma’s shaft again, rubbing hard and slow against the sensitive curve on the underside of his cock.

Something like static filled his preacher’s mind, and his left thigh twitched as he shamelessly thrust his hips into Kantera’s hand, practically keening “Y-yes!”

Maybe that static was contagious, because Kantera stopped thinking for a moment. He shook his head, that indecent grin spreading on his face again. God. That was a lovely sound.

“Come on,” he murmured right in Dogma’s ear, “Move your hips more. That’ll make it feel better.”

His preacher hesitated, but soon enough he wordlessly obeyed with a shuddering moan. Kantera was certainly right; though it didn’t change how it felt, there was something… Deliciously filthy in the feeling of rolling his body against his doctor’s loving touch like this. The growing heat in his face and loins made him forget his shame. He groaned and sighed into Kantera’s hair, letting his hips move as they pleased, biting his lip at the sensation of Kantera’s hand working against him, with him.

And before too long, Kantera made another request. “Dogmaaaa~” he cooed.

“Yessss…?” Dogma breathed, in truth barely sentient.

“Mm… Please. Go on, cum for me. I want to hear it,” Kantera said, panting and rubbing Dogma’s cock faster, harder, repeating breathlessly, “Please. Cum for me.”

Dogma made a shaky, somewhat inquisitive noise, again not sure what Kantera meant in the heat of the moment, and he didn’t even notice his breath getting heavier, louder until an odd, vibrant sensation hit him - hard. He gave a long string of short, high-pitched whimpers and tangled his fingers in Kantera’s hair, gripping hard onto it for support as his hips seemed to - paralyze, stuck barely shaking against his doctor’s hand. Kantera grinned hard, biting his lip as Dogma’s voice rose in a couple of strangled yelps of “Yes, yes, YES,” his cock tingling and twitching desperately in Kantera’s merciful, kind hand and spilling onto his sleeve.

The preacher’s convulsing decomposed into a gentle quiver, giving lovely whimpers with each attempt to catch his breath, and he refused to let go of Kantera’s head. That was trapped firmly in his tight, shaking embrace, and Dogma’s fingers were combing through Kantera’s hair. He was too mortified with himself to verbally thank his doctor, he could feel a strange sort of vibrating in his cheeks and hands. So, again, he did what he could, hiding his face in and pressing appreciative kisses to that soft grey hair.

Kantera had to catch his breath as well, recovering from the burning of those stars that had gathered in his eyes as he basked in that wonderful, wonderful gift Dogma had given him: Dogma’s own voice. True to his word, Kantera didn’t even want Dogma to return the favor, he thought as he stroked his preacher’s back, kissing up his chest. What he was given, he felt, was more than what he gave.

“Dogma,” the doctor finally said, sighing softly, “Do you think you can get up?”

“No,” Dogma laughed right away, breathless and out of words.

And Kantera laughed back, giggling, “Well, I suppose I’ll have to help you get from here to there somehow…”

Where was there? Dogma didn’t exactly want to face his Goddess just yet. But before he could think another shameful thought, he felt Kantera’s hands on his back and under his knees, and he felt himself being lifted off the table. Very shakily.

Kantera held Dogma bridal style, his legs shaking under the preacher’s weight, but he did not complain through his strained smile. His smile was genuine. “We’ll head for my room, so you can rest and regain your strength, alright?”

His deteriorating strength couldn’t wait for Dogma to confirm or reject that suggestion, so he quickly shuffled for the door behind the countertop, gritting his teeth, his face growing red from the exertion.

Dogma, on the other hand, took his turn to take the stars in his eyes. He was positively dumbstruck, heart pounding - whether that was from the ‘exertion’ he went through, or just this flattered feeling was unclear - by this sweet gesture.

Even though Kantera just about dropped him on the hardwood floor. Only just about! The doctor’s knees hit the floor a little harsher than he meant for them to, but he set Dogma down on his unmade futon on the floor. The preacher laid down, his back to the floor, one arm covering his eyes as he took a moment to breathe… And then he removed it.

For a moment, their eyes met, and much to Dogma’s surprise, it was Kantera who averted his eyes and coughed. But he smiled soon after, laughing in spite of himself. Perhaps to regain his own bravery, he sighed, “You are… Positively, strikingly handsome. You’re wonderfully gorgeous, are you told that often?”

Dogma shook his head, laughing nervously, still glowing in a bit of that shamelessness. “I’d have to say no one’s ever told me that. Not like that, not someone who meant it like that.”

“Really! How strange…” Kantera lifted his sleeve to his lips in genuine surprise, eyes softening. “As sad as that must have been until now, how lucky for me, then… Someone who, logically speaking, should be the talk of the town, is all mine today. I’ve made such a marvelous discovery, ohoho…”

With that, the doctor curled up against his preacher’s side, one leg straddling Dogma’s legs, and kissed his cheek. “I’m rather sleepy, aren’t you? I think a nap may be in order…”

Dogma rarely understood Kantera’s preoccupation with sleeping all day, but in that moment, it was crystal clear to him.

In one last moment of bravery before sleep overtook him, he turned on his side to face Kantera, pressing a weary, soft kiss to the doctor’s lips and wrapping one arm around him.

It really was delightful. Kantera was just as soft, warm and lovely to touch as he thought he’d be.


End file.
